


Shatter Me

by dracoqueen22



Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Technically Illegal Incest, Threesome - M/M/M, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 09:07:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6848317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoqueen22/pseuds/dracoqueen22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somehow, it happened. But Sunstreaker would worry about tomorrow when it actually came. Right here, right now, there was only today.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shatter Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fuzipenguin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/gifts).



Sunstreaker knew, tangentially, that Sideswipe was handsome. Of course he was. They were twins, and Sunstreaker knew for a fact that on his own, Sunstreaker was a stunning example of Cybertronian design. Therefore, Sideswipe was handsome, if only slightly less so than Sunstreaker.   
  
He was imperfect, but still handsome. Their interface partners were drawn to Sideswipe's charisma, which helped because Sunstreaker's less than charming witticisms tended to drive them away. But Sunstreaker had been told that he was handsome when he glowered, which was a good thing since it was his default expression.   
  
Their berthmate for the evening had been picked up in a bar on the outskirts of Iacon, located in the hazy middle ground that suggested Iacon had ended and Uraya had just begun. All kinds of mechs could be found here and this one – Hound – was no exception. He called himself a naturalist, whatever that meant.   
  
Sunstreaker was drawn to his hands. They were large, blunt, the hands of someone unsuited to delicate tasks. They were sturdy. Strong. In particular, Sunstreaker looked forward to having them grip his hips as Hound plowed into him, perhaps whilst Sideswipe was enjoying the squeeze of Hound's valve.   
  
Sunstreaker's engine revved at the thought.   
  
Hound's frame could use a little scrubbing. His olivine paint was a bit scuffed for Sunstreaker's liking, but he was clean enough, and he had a nice smile.   
  
He was also a really good kisser.   
  
Sunstreaker moaned as Hound nipped at his lips, his gently pointed denta tugging on Sunstreaker's upper and bottom lip in lingering succession. His glossa slipped into Sunstreaker's mouth, teasing out Sunstreaker's own, only to retreat again.   
  
His hands, those gloriously strong and blunt hands, stroked over Sunstreaker's frame, tracing the seams but unable to slip between them. One knee nudged between Sunstreaker's, and he bucked his hips, eagerly riding the thick thigh as it pressed against his increasingly hot panel.   
  
“Hey, bro, stop hogging him,” Sideswipe teased.   
  
Sunstreaker heard metal on metal and then Hound arched, moaning against Sunstreaker's lips. A shiver raced across Hound's armor as he drew back, giving enough room for Sunstreaker to see Sideswipe behind him, mouthing at an empty socket on Hound's shoulder. Whatever he usually attached there, left him sensitive in its absence.   
  
Sideswipe had a grip on Hound's hips, as though trying to pull him backward and away from Sunstreaker.   
  
A little growl rose in Sunstreaker's intake. He snagged the back of Hound's head, dragging the mech in for another one of those steamy kisses. He had Hound first, damn it.   
  
“No,” Sunstreaker said against Hound's lips, rolling down onto Hound's thigh with a lovely scrape of his valve panel against green plating. “You can wait your turn.”   
  
Hound chuckled. “You two haven't learned how to share very well, have you?” he asked. One of his hands wandered to Sunstreaker's panel, giving it a flirtatious brush of his fingers.   
  
Sunstreaker shivered as his spike extended and his valve cover spiraled aside, offering both to those blunt hands. Hound took him up on the offer, one finger dragging down the length of Sunstreaker's spike before tapping gently on his node.   
  
Sunstreaker bit off a moan, his hips jerking.   
  
“We share just fine.” Sideswipe nibbled on that shoulder connector again, leaving it glistening from his oral lubricants. “It's the waiting to take turns that doesn't go so well.”   
  
Hound grinned. “Then maybe you should consider taking home two mechs instead of one?” His finger stroked Sunstreaker's node again, making his knees wobble. He clutched harder at Hound.   
  
“Nah, where's the fun in that?” Sideswipe winked playfully and tugged on Hound again. “Come on. I want to get you on my berth so I can lick you all over.”   
  
Hound's ventilations hitched.   
  
Sunstreaker flexed his fingers on Hound's hips. “Hold on. What if I want him to spike me first?” His valve twitched, squeezing down in imagined bliss. Hound's finger wreaked gentle havoc on his external node, driving him to distraction.   
  
Hound's glossa flicked over his lips. “Frankly, I'm good with either,” he said, though he shivered as Sideswipe gnawed on the connector and rolled his hips, rutting against Hound's aft.   
  
“But it's my turn to go first this time,” Sideswipe said and his hands slid inward, cupping Hound's panel and rubbing it in slow, steady circles. “We had a deal.”   
  
The green mech's optics flickered. He leaned back against Sideswipe, panels opening to allow Sideswipe to touch and fondle at his leisure.   
  
“Well,” he said with a bobbing of his intake. “If you had a deal then I guess I'm obligated to let you have your way with me.”   
  
Sideswipe grinned, smug. “You won't be disappointed. Sunny?”   
  
“Fine, fine,” Sunstreaker said, releasing Hound into Sideswipe's custody, which of course meant that Sideswipe immediately spun Hound into his arms, stealing him for a deep kiss.   
  
Besides, it wasn't like he would never get to touch Hound after this. It just meant that Sideswipe got the first taste. Fair was fair after all.   
  
Last week, Sunstreaker got the pleasure of bending Tracks over a table first so he supposed he could let Sideswipe have his turn. Even if his node still buzzed from Hound's touch, and all Sunstreaker wanted to do was get those blunt fingers back on his array.   
  
Hound made a noise of pleasure, his hands grabbing at Sideswipe's hips. “I have a feeling I'm going to like being the object of your attention.”   
  
“Oh, you will,” Sideswipe purred and urged Hound backward, toward Sunstreaker's berthroom. They always used his for their berthmates because Sunstreaker's was clean and organized, as opposed to the disaster area Sideswipe called a room.   
  
Sunstreaker followed after making sure the door was locked. One never could be too careful.   
  
Hound and Sideswipe were laughing softly together as they stumbled into the room, and Sideswipe spun them again, this time aiming Hound toward the berth. A light push and Hound sprawled backward, his legs hanging over the edge of the berth.   
  
Sideswipe leaned over him, cupping Hound's face to draw him in for another kiss. His lips moved slowly, coaxing and tempting, glossa no doubt playing chase with Hound's. The green mech's engine rumbled as Sideswipe moved between his knees, only to release Hound and slowly sink to his knees.   
  
“I like to get started with an appetizer,” Sideswipe said with a saucy wink, leaning in to ex-vent over Hound's array.   
  
Hound had a nice spike, gleaming silver and banded in concentric circles. It bore yellow and green highlights, but was otherwise standard. It was the kind that felt perfect as it slid into your valve, smooth and easy.   
  
“Are you always this ridiculous?” Hound asked as he looked down at Sideswipe, though hunger gleamed in his optics.   
  
“Yes,” Sunstreaker answered as he took up position somewhere that gave him a good view, but also gave him something to lean against.   
  
“Not always,” Sideswipe retorted with a glance over his shoulder. He turned his attention back to Hound, glossa emerging to taste the tip of Hound's spike.   
  
Hound shivered and gripped the edge of the berth. He focused on Sideswipe, watching intently as Sideswipe started to pay him the attention he so richly deserved.   
  
Sunstreaker licked his lips and settled back to watch. He enjoyed this part, when their shared partner dissolved into bliss, eagerly opening himself to Sideswipe's ministrations. Sideswipe was a maestro at this, relaxing their partners, making them hot and hungry, and then Sunstreaker benefited.   
  
He rubbed his panel as he watched, his optics focused on Hound's face, the color building in his dermal plating, the brightening of his optics. Hound moaned, his hands flexing where they gripped the edge of the berth. His thighs pushed further and further apart. Like this, the plain lines of Hound's faceplate took on a cast of beauty. Pleasure made him handsome. Delight turned him into a work of art.   
  
Sunstreaker shifted to get a better look, mouth going dry at the sight. Sideswipe had one finger tracing the rim of Hound's valve, yellow biolights blinking fitfully back at him. Lubricant welled in Hound's valve, shimmering within the shadow of it. Sunstreaker's mouth watered as he imagined how Hound tasted. Perhaps something earthy and bold.   
  
Sideswipe's fingers drew through the lubricant as though it were paint. He gathered it up and traced Hound's valve with it.   
  
Sideswipe had nice hands. They weren't as sensitive or skilled as Sunstreaker's. They weren't blunt and strong as Hound's. But they were good hands. Black fingers glistened with lubricant as Sideswipe teased Hound, sliding one finger into the green mech's valve while his thumb toyed with Hound's anterior node.   
  
“Primus, you're a tease,” Hound groaned, his hands gripping the berth edge tighter. Plating flexed, allowing fleeting glimpses of the cabling beneath.   
  
“No, I'm savoring,” Sideswipe corrected, another finger plunging into Hound's valve.   
  
Sunstreaker imagined that they were curving, twisting to the same rhythm as Hound's hips danced. Sideswipe's hands teased, drawing pleasure, painting it as surely as Sunstreaker swept paint across a canvas.   
  
Something in the pit of Sunstreaker's belly tightened with need. It was a jolt straight to the spark, and Sunstreaker almost gasped.   
  
He'd never thought of it that way, but now he did. Now he wondered.   
  
Hound's face rippled with delight. His field filled the room with hunger. His feet scraped apart, hips canted to offer himself to the pleasure Sideswipe offered.   
  
Sideswipe's hand moved, in and out, back and forth, cables in his wrist flexing where they were visible through plating gaps. Lubricant ran down his fingers and hand in little dribbles, glistening in the bright lights of the berthroom.   
  
Hound jerked as Sideswipe slid three fingers home. He moaned, hips rocking, and Sunstreaker imagined what Sideswipe was doing to him. Was he curling his fingers, stroking those deep nodes? Was he gathering lines of charge and uniting them fingertip to fingertip?   
  
Sunstreaker's wondered, in that moment, what Sideswipe's fingers would feel like in his own valve? He'd often seen Sideswipe reducing their berthmates to babbling messes with his fingers alone. How, then, would they feel within Sunstreaker?   
  
He moaned as the images came unbidden, of Sideswipe looking up at him, face filled with devilish glee as he tormented Sunstreaker with his hands. Sunstreaker would look down, see the damp of his own lubricant on Sideswipe's black fingers. They'd glisten like an oil spill in sunlight, and Sideswipe would pull them free with a noisy pop. He'd admire his fingers.   
  
And then he'd clean them with his mouth. Kind of like he was doing to Hound now. He'd pop his fingers into his own mouth, running his glossa over them, making sounds as though he were tasting the sweetest energon.   
  
Hound moaned.   
  
Sunstreaker desperately tried not to echo him.   
  
What the frag was wrong with him? That was Sideswipe! His twin, his brother! He was not supposed to think of Sideswipe like that!  
  
Sideswipe pulled his fingers free from his mouth, lubricant gone but still damp from his oral fluids. He made a show of licking them, to Hound's wide-opticked arousal. He smirked around his fingers, looking proud of himself.   
  
Sunstreaker's heel shoved against his array, his spike straining beneath his fingers. He resisted touching himself to the thought of his brother, though Sideswipe's lips glistened with lubricant. Sideswipe's glossa swept over them, dampening them further.   
  
“You are incorrigible,” Hound panted.   
  
Sunstreaker had to agree. Sideswipe was a damn tease and until now, Sunstreaker hadn't realized how much.   
  
Sideswipe smirked. “Only if I don't follow through.” He leaned forward, ex-venting on Hound's exposed array, making the biolights flicker brighter. “Is this okay?”   
  
Hound's engine revved. “More than.” One hand let go of the berth and rested on Sideswipe's head. “I might have to yell, loudly, if you don't.”   
  
Sideswipe chuckled, his glossa snaking out to tap against Hound's anterior node. Hound shuddered, and Sunstreaker shuddered with him.   
  
He'd watched Sideswipe offer oral pleasure before, and their partners always enjoyed it. Usually, Sunstreaker focused on their partner, but now, he was watching Sideswipe. How Sideswipe took his time, teasing around Hound's anterior node before circling the rim of his valve. He lapped up every escaping drip of lubricant, and traced the plush rim with his glossa, like he intended to memorize the shape of it.   
  
Hound's engine raced. His backstrut arched. His legs trembled. He gnawed on his bottom lip, pointed canines making a show.   
  
He was pretty to look at. Sunstreaker still wanted Hound, still wanted to feel that impressive spike in his valve. His calipers clenched. Lubricant drizzled out, staining his thighs.   
  
Sunstreaker wanted Sideswipe's mouth on him, too. He wanted to see Sideswipe working between his thighs, unhurriedly savoring every inch of his valve. He wanted to see Sideswipe's face smeared with Sunstreaker's lubricant. He wanted Sideswipe to make that hungry noise over Sunstreaker and drive right in, glossa fragging his valve like it were a spike, and much like he was doing to Hound now.   
  
Sunstreaker's engine revved. He palmed his spike unable to resist curling his fingers around it, the dermal metal throbbing hotly in his grip.   
  
Hound's head tossed back. His hips arched, pushing toward Sideswipe's mouth. His hands tangled in the berth, gray fingers twisting the berth covers. His thighs trembled.   
  
Sideswipe's mouth wreaked havoc on him. His lips plucked at Hound's anterior node. His glossa lapped at the rim of Hound's valve. He licked into Hound's center, gathering up spills of lubricant and swallowing it with happy noises. His hands kneaded patterns on Hound's thighs.   
  
Hound's engine rumbled. He made urgent noises. His energy field flooded the room with desire. His cooling fans sputtered to life. Sideswipe latched onto his node and sucked and Hound's back arched. A strangled noise escaped his vocalizer.   
  
Sideswipe chuckled against his valve. His intake bobbed as he swallowed more lubricant, as he lapped at Hound's valve as though it were a fine treat. He was so attentive, so dedicated. Sideswipe adored giving oral pleasure, and it showed.   
  
Sunstreaker gnawed on the inside of his cheek. He squeezed his spike, a pearl of pre-fluid dribbling free. Sunstreaker's thighs trembled as he imagined Sideswipe's lips on his own valve, Sideswipe unhurriedly enjoying every inch of him, tasting every sensor. Sunstreaker's valve ached. Lubricant oozed free, threatening to dampen his thighs.   
  
Hound gasped again. His heels kicked at the berth as he thrust down against Sideswipe's mouth. The berth creaked. Hound moaned and then his hips jerked as he rode Sideswipe's mouth, his valve fluttering in overload. Sunstreaker watched his sensors flicker, the rim of his valve ripple.   
  
In pleasure, Hound was gorgeous. Watching him made Sunstreaker's engine rev. And yet, his optics wandered to the sight of Sideswipe easing Hound through his overload, lapping gently at the spasming ring and gathering up the drips of lubricant with his glossa. He made a noise of pleasure even as Hound slumped onto the berth, valve sated but spike yet standing proud.   
  
“Good?” Sideswipe asked as he rose to his pedes, glossa flicking over his lips.   
  
Hound spat a bleat of static. His cooling fans sputtered. “Very,” he said, breathless.   
  
Sideswipe chuckled and one hand slid from Hound's hip to his spike, where he squeezed it gently. “Looks like another part of you needs attention, too,” he said. His black fingers made a gorgeous contrast to the silver of Hound's spike.   
  
Sunstreaker's engine revved.   
  
“Aren't we ignoring Sunstreaker?” Hound asked.   
  
Sideswipe glanced over his shoulder at Sunstreaker, smug to the curve of his lips. His optics seemed to rake Sunstreaker from head to pede, something dark and heated glinting in the depths of them. His gaze lingered on Sunstreaker's hand, firmly wrapped around his spike, though he suddenly couldn’t remember how it had gotten there.   
  
“He can wait,” Sideswipe said with another squeeze to Hound's spike. “I want to experience this for myself first.”   
  
Hound made a strangled noise. “Don't let me stop you,” he said as his spike dribbled pre-fluid, dampening Sideswipe's fingers.   
  
Sideswipe grinned and climbed onto the berth, straddling Hound's hips. There was snickt of metal, his panel whisking aside as he bared his valve. He was already aroused, obvious by the glint of lubricant seen in the shadows between his legs. He hovered over Hound's spike as the green mech's hands found their ways to Sideswipe's waist.  
  
“You going to tease me again?” Hound asked as his hands stroked up Sideswipe's sides before settling on his hips, gray hands a contrast to the black of Sideswipe's plating.   
  
“Wouldn't dream of it,” Sideswipe purred before he sank down, ever so slowly, his valve swallowing Hound's spike inch by inch.   
  
Sunstreaker's mouth went dry. He fisted his spike, squeezing it to keep from overloading there on the spot. Sideswipe shivered; Hound moaned. The two of them went still, the only motion that of Sideswipe sinking down until their plating came together and Hound was fully seated.   
  
Sideswipe braced his hands on Hound's chestplate, the plating on his back shuffling. “Mmm,” he purred. “Just the right size.”   
  
Hound flushed. “I think you're saying that just to flatter me.”   
  
Sideswipe chuckled. “Maybe I am.” He circled his hips, stirring Hound's spike within his valve, causing his aft to sway. “Or maybe I really like how you fit inside of me.”   
  
Sunstreaker's engine rumbled. He pinched the tip of his spike, his ventilations stalled. They felt caught in his intake. His optics seemed magnetically drawn to Sideswipe's aft, to the curve of it, the way it glinted in the berthroom overhead light.   
  
Sideswipe threw a glance over his shoulder, catching Sunstreaker's stare. Sunstreaker's face heated, and he threw a challenging look back at his brother. What? He was being left out over here.   
  
“Poor Sunny looks so lonely though,” Sideswipe said with a mischievous tone. He turned his head back toward Hound, kneading his fingers on the green mech's chest. “Have you ever had two mechs take you at once, Hound?”   
  
Hound groaned, his hips bucking into Sideswipe's valve, his fingers tightening with a creak. “No,” he said, a bit breathless, and then his thighs pushed open a bit further as though invitingly. “There's a first time for everything.”   
  
Sunstreaker's vents stalled. He squeezed his spike harder. “You...” he trailed off, licked his lips, tried again, “You don't mind?”   
  
“Judging by the way his spike is throbbing inside of me, not at all,” Sideswipe said with a laugh.   
  
Hound's vents whined. “You two do that a lot?”   
  
Sideswipe shook his head and rolled his hips, prompting another strangled sound from Hound. “Not as often as you'd think.” He bent closer and stole a quick kiss from Hound. “Doesn't it sound hot, though? Someone riding your spike while someone else spikes you?”   
  
“Oh, Primus,” Hound breathed, his head hitting the berth. “How much more invitation do you need, Sunstreaker?”   
  
“That'll do,” Sunstreaker replied and moved to join them, careful to avoid touching his twin despite how much his fingers ached to do so.   
  
He worked himself between Hound's thighs, crouching a little to get a better angle, hooking his arms under Hound's legs to guide them around his waist. His spike nudged at Hound's soaking valve, the rim fluttering as if demanding he pierce it.   
  
Hound groaned, the back of his shins hitting the back of Sunstreaker's thighs as though urging him onward. “Please.”   
  
Sunstreaker cycled a vent and rolled his hips, thrusting into Hound in one, smooth push. He gasped as his spike was swallowed by clenching heat, pleasure cascading through his sensornet. He'd been struggling to hold back, and this was not helping. Hound's valve was very welcoming, the calipers rippling in an attempt to pull him deeper.   
  
Sunstreaker groaned and began a shallow, slow rhythm. The base of his spinal strut already tingled and heat gathered in the pit of his belly, but he held himself back.  
  
“Now,” Sideswipe purred as he sat back up, bracing himself on Hound's chestplate. “Let's see which of us makes you overload first.”   
  
Hound breathed another epithet. His hands clenched on Sideswipe's hips, especially when Sideswipe began to move, riding Hound's spike with eager abandon. Sunstreaker's optics were drawn to the motion of his twin's hips once more, to the bounce and sway, the glistening of lubricant on Hound's groin and on his spike every time Sideswipe rose back up.   
  
Sideswipe's armor flared to allow for the dispersal of heat. Every motion brought his cables into view, begging to be touched. Sunstreaker tightened his hold on Hound's thighs to keep himself from reaching for those exposed cables. Sideswipe was making all of these needful noises, little gasps and whimpers, as he rode Hound's spike.   
  
“Yes,” Sideswipe hissed, his hips slamming onto Hound's, prompting Sunstreaker to pick up the pace, though his knees wobbled and overload peeked around the corner.   
  
“Overload inside me,” he urged.   
  
Oh, no. Sunstreaker knew that tone of voice, when Sideswipe dissolved into a dirty talk babble that tended to make his interface partner dissolve into a helpless, wanton state.   
  
Hound was not immune to it. His valve cinched down on Sunstreaker's spike, rippling eagerly. He kneaded Sideswipe's hips. He licked his lips, urging Sideswipe down on his spike faster and faster.   
  
“Want you to fill me up,” Sideswipe said with a little shiver. His aft rolled and bounced, putting on a damn fine show.   
  
Sunstreaker wanted to grip it, stroke it, spank it. He imagined Sideswipe on top of him now, Sideswipe on his spike, riding it like he rode Hound's.   
  
Sunstreaker gnawed on his glossa to keep from moaning.   
  
“Make me drip,” Sideswipe added with another gasp. He sucked in a vent, dropping his hips, swiveling them. “Leave a mess behind. Make me sloppy and dripping.”   
  
“Primus!” Hound's head threw back as he arched his backstrut. His hips worked upward, struggling to thrust into Sideswipe without any leverage. His valve spasmed around Sunstreaker, charge visibly spilling out from his armor.   
  
“Do it,” Sideswipe purred, panting, metal chiming on metal. “Overload inside me. Do it. Come on, Hound. Give it to me.”  
  
Sideswipe was a primus-bedamned menace.   
  
Sunstreaker's head dipped. His grip on Hound's thighs tightened to the point of stressing the metal. His spike throbbed. He buried himself in Hound and ground deep, the overload building to a tight knot that demanded release.   
  
“I'm gonna… gonna--” Hound cut off with an urk as his hips bucked and he overloaded. His valve spiraled into a tight cocoon around Sunstreaker's spike, sucking Sunstreaker right into his overload. Not that he could have held out, not with the way Sideswipe keened and slammed onto Hound, shuddering through the tremors of his own release.   
  
Sunstreaker could see very little, but a pool of lubricant growing on Hound's groin, the fluids seeping out from where his spike was buried in Sideswipe's valve. It was a mix of transfluid and lubricant both, and Sunstreaker longed to clean it with his glossa. Longed to be the one who caused Sideswipe to make a sound like that.   
  
Sideswipe collapsed forward, body twitching in the aftershocks. Hound's cooling fans spun noisily, like they were in need of maintenance. His hands slid from Sideswipe's hips to his back, giving him a happy pat. Sunstreaker dropped his hold on Hound's thighs, staggering back on legs that seemed unfit to hold his weight except by sheer force of will alone.   
  
“Mmm.” Sideswipe shivered, as he slid forward, Hound's spike slipping out of his valve, allowing another spill of mixed fluids to dribble free.   
  
Sideswipe's valve was open, relaxed, the nodes blinking fitfully. The folds of his valve were still puffy from arousal. He looked like something Sunstreaker wanted to taste, and he had to stop himself from taking Sideswipe's hips in hand and burying his face in that mess of a valve.   
  
No. No, stop it. Stupid processor!   
  
“That… that...” Hound couldn't seem to form a coherent sentence.   
  
Well, that made two of them. Sunstreaker tilted forward, braced his hands to the edge of the berth on either side of Hound's hips. His mouth watered. His spike twitched at the sight of Sideswipe's valve. It would be nothing to slide himself into it.   
  
“Mm. I agree,” Sideswipe said. He scooted up to plant a wet kiss on Hound's lips before he pulled himself off of Hound, landing in a sprawl on his back next to the green mech. His legs were still parted, his valve on display, his spike half-pressurized above it.   
  
Sunstreaker wanted to taste it, too. He wanted Sideswipe's spike in his mouth, to feel the weight and heat of it on his glossa. He wanted Sideswipe to look down at him with that smirk, to cup his head vents and speak dirty things to him.   
  
He wanted a lot of things he should not want.   
  
“I… I still haven't had my turn,” Sunstreaker managed, forcefully turning his attention to Hound.   
  
The green mech was attractive. He was handsome. He was friendly, and he smiled, and he shivered under Sunstreaker's intense look. His valve was open and inviting, so was his half-pressurized spike, the silver length of it liberally coated in a mixture of fluids.   
  
Transfluid but also… also Sideswipe's lubricant.   
  
Sunstreaker's engine revved. He dropped to his knees before he thought twice about it and ex-vented over Hound's spike. He pulled Hound's legs over his shoulders, caging himself between Hound's thighs.   
  
“Do you mind?” he asked, licking his lips.   
  
There was something here, something in the act of sucking Hound's spike after Sideswipe had rode it that struck him as equally wrong to the act of desiring his brother. But oh Primus, Sunstreaker wanted it. He wanted to do it.   
  
“Mind?” Hound gave a little hoarse laugh, his legs drawing inward to nudge at Sunstreaker's shoulders. “I've never had anyone give me this much attention before. I am the furthest thing from minding right now.”   
  
“Just making sure,” Sunstreaker said before he in-vented, getting a heady whiff of a mixture of Sideswipe's lubricant, Hound's transfluid, and the powerful scent of overload.   
  
He worked his intake and leaned forward, licking at the tip of Hound's spike. He shuddered as the unmistakeable taste of lubricant and transfluid struck his receptors. His face heated as his spike surged to life once more as though he hadn't already had several good overloads.   
  
Sunstreaker's engine rumbled. Beneath him, Hound's ventilations hitched. His hands rose, perhaps to grab Sunstreaker's head, but Sideswipe intercepted them, rising on his knees to grab Hound's hands and pin them above his head. He kissed Hound, shoving his glossa into Hound's mouth, and instead, Hound's hips rolled toward Sunstreaker's mouth.   
  
Internally grateful, Sunstreaker got back to business. Neither of them were watching, so neither could see how he took Hound slowly into his mouth, swallowing constantly as he licked every trace of fluids from Hound's spike. He savored, tracing every ridge, every bump, every seam in Hound's spike. He licked further down, cleaning the base of Hound's spike, the plating around it, glossa carefully finding every mingled spatter.   
  
Once he'd cleaned Hound's spike, only then did he get to the act of servicing it. He took Hound deep, into his intake, swallowing around the head of it. He heard Hound's vents hitch, but his moans were buried in Sideswipe's mouth, in their kissing.   
  
Sunstreaker sucked Hound's spike into his mouth, rolling it around his glossa, gently scraping it with his denta. He made a happy noise as he let Hound's hips roll, let the other mech thrust into his mouth. He imagined it were Sideswipe beneath him, Sideswipe trying to contain his moans as Sunstreaker sucked him, driving him to higher and higher planes of arousal.   
  
Sunstreaker moaned, his spike growing firm again, his valve still slick. He ached to have someone inside of him, to feel that pleasure coursing through his frame.   
  
Ashamedly, he wanted that someone to be Sideswipe.   
  
Hound's hips moved, faster and faster, little thrusts into Sunstreaker's mouth. His spike firmed and swelled, growing thicker. It pulsed happy little beats against Sunstreaker's glossa, spilling pre-fluid down his intake. His valve twitched into readiness, and Sunstreaker obliged by sliding two fingers into Hound's valve, curling them just right to hit that inner node behind the rim.   
  
Hound moaned against Sideswipe's mouth, fingers clenching around Sideswipe's. The minute rocks of his hips turned stronger, his spike twitching in Sunstreaker's mouth. His field grew, hot with arousal, his frame smelling of need and want.   
  
Sunstreaker swallowed him deep, working his intake against the head of Hound's spike. His glossa lashed the length of Hound's spike as his thumb rubbed circles against Hound's pulsing anterior node, fingers curled against the interior sensor.   
  
Hound's engine growled. His hips gave a shallow buck as the desire potential in his field burst. He abruptly overloaded, spurting down Sunstreaker's intake. He swallowed every dribble and teased Hound through the last tremors of it. Only then did he let Hound slip from his mouth, savoring the taste still present on his glossa. If he concentrated, he could still taste Sideswipe's lubricant.   
  
Hound slumped on the berth, cooling fans whirring. As Sunstreaker watched, he and Sideswipe ended their kiss, Sideswipe's lips swollen. Hound's smile could have lit the world as he gave a long sigh of satisfaction.   
  
“That was great,” he said.   
  
Sideswipe grinned. “Glad you enjoyed yourself.” He released Hound's hands and sat back on his heels, rolling his neck. His gaze wandered to Sunstreaker, still full of heat, optics tracking from Sunstreaker's face down the length of his frame.   
  
Sunstreaker knew he was hard again, that he could go for another round. But as much as he enjoyed Hound's company… he didn't want to pretend anymore. The taste of his brother lingered. The sight of Sideswipe's valve, still exposed, made his engine rev.   
  
“So glad I said yes,” Hound breathed.   
  
Sideswipe chuckled. “So are we.” He eyed Sunstreaker again before he stretched his arms over his head and faked a yawn. “But wow. Look at the time. It's getting late, isn't it?”   
  
Sunstreaker's spark throbbed with surprise. With excitement. Usually, they kept their berthmates all evening.   
  
Hound cycled his optics. “Late? It's not even midnight.”   
  
“Oh, it's late for us,” Sunstreaker said as he took a step back, angling away from Hound so that he couldn't see how eager Sunstreaker remained. “Early to berth, early to rise, early to find customers.”   
  
Hound sat up, his little confused pout adorable, but only in a distant sort of fashion. “Customers?”   
  
Sideswipe slid off the berth and tucked an arm around Hound, urging him to his pedes. Hound wobbled, like many did after several mind-blowing overloads. “We own a shop, remember?”   
  
“Oh. Right. I forgot.” Hound smiled, sheepish. He raked a hand over his head and then looked down at himself. “Oh, but I'm kind of… sticky? Mind if I…?”  
  
“It's broken,” Sunstreaker interjected, reading the jitteriness in his brother's field, certain it matched his own.   
  
They needed to talk.   
  
“I could take a look at it,” Hound offered.   
  
Primus save them from well-meaning mechs.   
  
Sideswipe patted Hound on the aft and started urging him toward the door, all but yanking him out of the berthroom. “No need. We've got a mech coming to look at it in the morning.”   
  
“We can offer this,” Sunstreaker said, appearing at Hound's other side with a mesh cloth, one he always kept in his subspace. It was even damp with a travel solvent. “Sorry, it's not as good as a nice rinse.”   
  
“That's very kind, thank you!” Hound accepted the cloth, his optics warm, despite the fact they'd backed him to the front door, Sideswipe poised with one hand over the panel to key it open. “Also, thank you for the night. I had a great time. Perhaps we could--”  
  
“--do it again? Sure!” Sideswipe's smile would have been earnest to anyone who didn't know better, like Hound. “We'll comm you.” He hit the panel and the door slid open, a slight nudge from Sunstreaker causing Hound to stumble backward.   
  
He clutched at the mesh cloth Sunstreaker had given him, his optics darting between Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. “It's okay if you don't,” Hound said. “Just so you know. I'm not looking for a relationship or anything. With either of you.”   
  
“Neither are we. Nice meeting you,” Sideswipe said.   
  
Sunstreaker offered the tiniest of waves, unable to dredge up Sideswipe's level of fake charm. Not with his spark whirling with agitation, and his array throbbing with unsatisfied heat. Hound had been a delight, but there was something else here, something stirring that he couldn't ignore.   
  
Hound waved back, and then looked confused, like he hadn't expected to wave. “Nice meeting you, too,” he said.   
  
Sideswipe hit the panel, initiating the closing sequence. Hound vanished from view, though luckily nothing in his expression had hinted of offense.   
  
This left Sunstreaker and Sideswipe alone.   
  
The door clicked shut. It chimed a cheerful noise to let them know it was locked. Silence fell, but that was only if Sunstreaker didn't count the fact that his entire frame thrummed with noise, his cooling fans still spun hopefully, and his lines pulsed with heat.   
  
Sideswipe was looking at him, too, with a little frown that suggested he was thinking, working something out in that calculating head of his. He made as much noise as Sunstreaker, though he always did run a little quieter.   
  
Lubricant still stained his thighs, his groin. Sunstreaker's optics couldn't help falling to it, the trickles that ran in rivulets down his plating. Red armor gleamed from it. Sideswipe's spike was pressurized, coated in his own pre-fluid, making the black and red bands glisten.   
  
Sunstreaker's mouth filled with lubricant. His engine whined. He forced himself to drag his gaze back up to Sideswipe's face. Where it was safer.   
  
He wasn't… he shouldn't…   
  
Sunstreaker's array ached. “Sides,” he said, and was alarmed when it came out a needy croak. “Sides, I--”  
  
His twin crossed the room in two quick strides, black hands gripping Sunstreaker's head vents and pulling him into a kiss before Sunstreaker could ventilate a cycle. Sunstreaker moaned as Sideswipe's glossa plunged into his mouth as desperately as he'd kissed Hound earlier. He felt Sideswipe's spike bump against him as their frames together.   
  
Sunstreaker pawed at Sideswipe, latching onto his dorsal plates, pulling him closer, until their frames were flush, hot metal to hot metal. He felt the whirl of Sideswipe's spark through their chestplates, knew that it echoed his own. His own spike surged to life, not that it had ever fully depressurized at all, the tip of it rubbing against Sideswipe's hip.   
  
Sunstreaker moaned again, his glossa tangling with Sideswipe's. Their mouths moved together with urgency, not delicacy. Sideswipe's denta scraped against Sunstreaker's lips. He was making these noises, too, these happy, hungry noises and each one seemed to ring louder and louder in Sunstreaker's audials.   
  
He rolled forward, grinding his spike on Sideswipe's hips, felt Sideswipe grind back against him in return. They were already a mess. What was a little more lubricant?   
  
A whine slipped from Sunstreaker's vocalizer. Sideswipe was a good kisser, a fantastic kisser, and Sunstreaker loved the taste of him. Didn't care that it was half Hound's. He wanted more.   
  
As if hearing him, Sideswipe slipped a hand between their frames. His fingers brushed over Sunstreaker's spike, and Sunstreaker jolted. A lance of pleasure went from his spike straight to his spark. His knees wobbled.   
  
Sideswipe broke off the kiss, pressing their foreheads together, the air between their mouths damp with heat. His finger dragged down the length of Sunstreaker's spike, finding and gently brushing Sunstreaker's anterior node.   
  
Sunstreaker shivered, bucking against Sideswipe's fingers. Pleasure shot through him, ringing through his array before pulsing into his spark. It felt like there was a direct line from where Sideswipe touched him to his spark. He'd never felt that with anyone before.   
  
“Can I…?” Sideswipe asked, breathless, hopeful, hungry.   
  
Sunstreaker ground his denta so hard he tasted sparks. “Sides, we're… we're not supposed to...” Sunstreaker said, but he faltered, because there was no one here, no one watching. And he wanted.   
  
“We shouldn't,” Sunstreaker added, but his glossa flicked across his lips as Sideswipe's finger traced lower, to the rim of his valve. Another urgent noise ran in Sunstreaker's intake. He felt on the cusp of overload, and Sideswipe had barely touched him.   
  
Sideswipe ex-vented heat. One finger stroked Sunstreaker's head vents. “I want you,” he said.   
  
“Sides...” Sunstreaker's optics flickered. His spark pulsed out a frantic beat. His grip tightened on Sideswipe's back, fingers locked in a transformation seam.   
  
He moaned, jerking Sideswipe closer, trapping his hand between their frames. Sunstreaker rolled his hips, rolling his valve onto Sideswipe's fingers, into the repeated jolts of pleasure that stole away all rational thought.  
  
There was only one word left.   
  
Please.  
  
Sideswipe growled low in his intake and then stole Sunstreaker's lips again, claiming as much as kissing, nips of his denta a perfect counterpoint to the soothing of his glossa. One finger slipped down, past the rim of Sunstreaker's valve, and into the dripping depths. A single hook and Sideswipe teased a ring of sensory nodes that made Sunstreaker's engine race and his knees wobble.   
  
“Berth,” he growled against Sideswipe's lips. “Need a… need a berth.”   
  
Sideswipe's grip on his head vent tightened. He rocked forward, grinding his spike against Sunstreaker's hip, panting against Sunstreaker's mouth. “Berth,” he agreed.   
  
The hardest part was letting him go long enough to get there. Sunstreaker feared breaking this spell of need. Maybe Sideswipe did, too. Because he didn't let Sunstreaker go. He pulled and he tugged, their limbs tangling together as they stumbled to a berthroom – Sideswipe's. They bounced off the frame, knocked a datapad off an end table, tripped on the cords to his game system.   
  
Sunstreaker couldn't stop touching. Every open seam, every glistening cable beneath. His hands grazed Sideswipe's spike and his brother – his brother! – shuddered. His thighs hit the berth behind him, and Sunstreaker grunted. Sideswipe was plastered to his front, mouth roaming, lips and denta tasting Sunstreaker's intake.   
  
His spike rubbed happy patterns on Sideswipe's hip until Sideswipe shifted and their spikes came into contact.   
  
Sunstreaker's engine revved into a higher pitch. He shoved a hand between their frames, gripped their spikes together, pressing hot metal to hot metal. Sideswipe throbbed in his hands, against the dermal metal of his own spike. He moaned into Sunstreaker's intake, his hand finding Sunstreaker's valve again.   
  
Sunstreaker imagined those black fingers were soaked in lubricant, his own lubricant, as they eased back inside Sunstreaker. As they bluntly sought out sensors and found them on accident, making Sunstreaker's valve ripple invitingly.   
  
Sideswipe's hand vanished, and Sunstreaker would never admit to the whimper of loss he made. He groped at Sideswipe, seeking Sideswipe's mouth with his own, until his world shifted beneath him. No, no that was just Sideswipe gripping his hips and fumbling him backward onto the berth.   
  
Sunstreaker hit the berth on his side, Sideswipe falling over him in a confusing tangle of limbs. Sideswipe's hands were all over him, stroking and teasing, and it was all Sunstreaker could do to tip over onto his front, try and get up on his hands and knees. His valve ached, his spike throbbed, he wanted Sideswipe inside him. He wanted to feel Sideswipe's pleasure.   
  
He wasn't supposed to want it, but he did.   
  
“No, no, no,” Sideswipe murmured, his hands grasping at Sunstreaker, pulling him back, trying to turn him over. “Wanna see you.”   
  
Sunstreaker's spark pulsed. He was trembling, and he didn't know if it was from the heat of his desire, or from all the rules they were breaking.   
  
“Wanna see your face,” Sideswipe said as he urged Sunstreaker onto his back, as he blanketed Sunstreaker with his frame, the heat of him, the familiarity of his scent.   
  
Sunstreaker's face flushed. “O-okay,” he stammered, the need yawing inside of him, Sideswipe's optics so dark with need that they were barely blue.   
  
Sunstreaker wrapped his arms over Sideswipe's shoulders, dragging him down for another kiss, bucking up against his brother's frame. He wasn't disgusted. He wasn't appalled. He felt nothing but need, but want. He loved his brother. He loved Sideswipe with every beat of his spark.   
  
He wrapped his legs around Sideswipe's waist, bringing them closer together. The wet of his valve rubbed against Sideswipe as he urged Sideswipe against him with the press of his heels. Their plating rubbed together, exchanging paint, but it was Sideswipe's weight, the blazing heat of him, that sent Sunstreaker's arousal skyrocketing.   
  
Sideswipe panted above him, shivering. His field was a wild, dizzying whirlwind, no doubt echoing Sunstreaker's own. His optics were wide. He looked at Sunstreaker like he'd never seen him before. The need in his expression was obvious. His lips were everywhere as though he couldn't decide what he wanted to taste more.   
  
Sunstreaker pawed at him, rocking his hips urgently. Sideswipe's spike kept slipping and sliding around his rim, gliding through the copious amount of lubricant pulsing from Sunstreaker's valve. Sideswipe rolled his hips, thrusting against Sunstreaker, but fumbling blindly. Unskilled like Sunstreaker hadn't seen him since the first time they'd tentatively shared a mech between them.   
  
They could have had their own partners, and they had from time to time, but somehow, they'd gravitated to sharing one over the course of the years until they only ever went out looking for one mech to pass between them. They had, neither of them, questioned it. They never discussed it.   
  
Somehow, it happened.   
  
Just like this, somehow, was happening. Just like Sunstreaker was making desperate noises in his intake because he wanted Sideswipe inside him, he wanted that bliss. He shoved the fact that it was wrong as deep down as he possibly could.   
  
He pawed at Sideswipe, gripped his twin with his thighs, bit at Sideswipe's intake. His valve rippled, awash with heat, with desire. It was building inside of Sunstreaker, to something desperate and raw. He needed it, needed his brother.   
  
Sideswipe pressed him down to the berth. One hand slid down, gripped Sunstreaker's hip and then with a whine of need, a single push, he thrust home. The throbbing heat of him slid deep into Sunstreaker, straight to the hilt, the head of his spike notching against Sunstreaker's ceiling node.   
  
Sunstreaker tossed his head back and keened as overload cascaded through him right then and there, as his valve spasmed around Sideswipe's spike, milking the length for all it was worth. Sunstreaker went rigid, holding onto Sideswipe with all he had, lights dancing behind his optics, his spark pulsing like a supernova.   
  
Sideswipe, too, followed him over, in near-unison. One stroke and he overloaded, a spurt of heat washing into Sunstreaker's valve, coating the sensitive lining. Sideswipe's frame trembled, his field wavering with need as though still unsatisfied.   
  
It wasn't enough. It wasn't nearly enough. Sunstreaker's valve continued to throb, his entire frame humming with need. His hips moved in small circles, stroking the spike within him, still pressurized, still as eager as Sunstreaker's own.   
  
Sideswipe blinked down at him, his optics wide, bright from need. “Whoa,” he whispered, glossa sweeping over his lips. He made as if to draw back.   
  
Sunstreaker clamped his hands on Sideswipe's spinal strut and pulled, kept him from going anywhere. “Don't stop,” he pleaded and reached up, capturing Sideswipe's mouth. “Don't stop,” he repeated against his brother's lips, one hand sliding up to the back of Sideswipe's head, trapping him in place.   
  
Sideswipe groaned, a strangled sound, and started to thrust, slowly at first. He more or less rocked into Sunstreaker, spike sliding in and in, raking against every sensor, every node. He panted, his engine revving. His plating flared, expelling heat. He dripped condensation down.   
  
“Sunny,” he murmured, nuzzling his way down to Sunstreaker's intake. “Sunny. Sunny. Sunny.”   
  
It was a chant, one that quickened to the tune of his faster thrusting, how he gained speed, where skill melted into desperation. Their arrays chimed together. Sunstreaker's spike rubbed over and over against Sideswipe's belly. He left streaks of transfluid behind.   
  
Sunstreaker needed… he needed.   
  
He clamped his thighs tighter around Sideswipe's hips and reached down, grabbing Sideswipe's hand from his hip and pulling it up. Sideswipe relented, shifting his weight to the one hand.   
  
Sideswipe's fingers were still damp, sticky. They'd left a print on Sunstreaker's hip, not that it mattered. Sunstreaker groaned in his intake as he pulled Sideswipe's hand to his mouth. He licked his lips, admiring the sticky black fingers, sticky from his own lubricant, from Sideswipe teasing Sunstreaker's valve.   
  
Sunstreaker's spark throbbed as he pulled Sideswipe's fingers to his mouth, as he took the index between his lips and into his mouth, dragging his glossa along the length of it.   
  
Sideswipe shuddered, his head shooting up. He stared, optics wide, as Sunstreaker made a happy noise and sucked on Sideswipe's finger. It curled slightly in his mouth, stroking the curve of his glossa.   
  
“You… you...” For once Sideswipe, ever glib, was at a loss for words. His thrusting slowed, though his spike throbbed urgently.   
  
Sunstreaker drew a second finger into his mouth, tasting his own lubricants in his brother's joints. He did not know why it made his valve clench happily, why his spike pulsed a blissful rhythm, decorating Sideswipe's belly with dribbles of pre-fluid. His brother had the most beautiful hands.   
  
“You're so hot when you do that,” Sideswipe breathed. “Earlier I… you were sucking Hound's spike and all I could think about was you doing that to me.” Sideswipe's glossa swept over his lips.   
  
His optics went bright, a blue so intense it seemed to burn. He groaned as Sunstreaker sucked on his fingers, lashing them with his glossa.   
  
“Yeah, just like that,” Sideswipe moaned and then his hips started moving again, he started thrusting faster and faster, more urgently. He lost all trace of restraint, slamming into Sunstreaker with clanks of metal on metal.   
  
His head tipped forward. He buried his face in Sunstreaker's intake again. The heated ex-vents ghosted over Sunstreaker's cables seconds before his lips and glossa teased them. Sunstreaker gasped, tilting his head back, offering himself to the scrape of Sideswipe's denta. He could feel them as much as he could imagine them and it sent a lightning bolt of charge down his spinal strut.   
  
Sideswipe's engine revved, vibrating their frames as Sunstreaker's joined the fray. They moved together, plating slick and sliding, metal scraping. Sunstreaker's thighs gripped, his hips rolled, as Sideswipe slammed into him, faster and faster. There was no skill to it, no sense of teasing, just raw need.   
  
Sideswipe panted into his intake as his spike pulsed. Sunstreaker's valve rippled around him, drawing him deeper. A second overload hovered close. Little zings of pleasure made him twitch and moan. His spark pulsed. His chestplate juttered as though seeking to split, and only a dim sense of rationale kept it closed.   
  
Merging? Merging was… too much.   
  
“Sunny,” Sideswipe whimpered, panting open-mouth kisses against Sunstreaker's intake before his mouth dragged back up. “I'm gonna… I'm gonna...”   
  
Sunstreaker's arm tightened around Sideswipe's upper back, holding him in place, keeping him pinned, until only Sideswipe's hips were moving, still desperately working between Sunstreaker's thighs.   
  
He sucked harder on Sideswipe's fingers, ignoring the sloppy mess he made. He scraped his denta against the dermal metal, tasting his brother's paint on his glossa.   
  
Sunstreaker looked up, capturing his twin's gaze with his own. Love and lust met his gaze, intermingled. Sideswipe knocked their foreheads together, his optics wide with need.   
  
There was no escaping it now. Sunstreaker was faced with the knowledge that it was Sideswipe over him, inside him, against him. His brother, his twin.   
  
The overload that struck him started as a rumble from somewhere deep in his chassis before it burst, sending wave after wave of heat through his frame. His valve spiraled down, clenching on Sideswipe's spike, and his own spike spurted, soaking the space between them.   
  
Sunstreaker whined as he writhed beneath Sideswipe, his brother's fingers falling from his mouth as his head tipped back. Sideswipe muttered something that was lost to the static in Sunstreaker's audials but then his mouth covered Sunstreaker's. His hand returned to Sunstreaker's hip, gripping with enough force to dent metal as he slammed into Sunstreaker.   
  
Once. Twice. And then Sunstreaker felt the bloom of heat inside his valve, the wash of transfluid over already sensitized nodes. He whimpered, hips jerking in Sideswipe's hold, desperately trying to spur Sideswipe's overload onward. Sideswipe's field washed over Sunstreaker as though charged, hot and hungry. Static crackled out from beneath his armor, burning the air with the scent of discharged ions.   
  
The kiss was the same, sloppy and heated, a tangle of glossa and nipping denta and the both of them desperately panting for cooler air. Sideswipe's arm wobbled near Sunstreaker's head. He sank down a little, his chestplate pressed to Sunstreaker's, until the whir of their sparks could be felt through the plating.   
  
Sunstreaker made a small noise, gentling the kiss, more nuzzling against Sideswipe. He unwound his legs, lowered them to the berth, letting Sideswipe rest, cradling his brother in the embrace of his frame. Their vents ran at max, their cooling fans working so hard they nearly sputtered.   
  
Sunstreaker made no move to let Sideswipe go. Neither did Sideswipe, his arms bracketing Sunstreaker's shoulders and head, his hips notched between Sunstreaker's, their bare arrays pressed together, Sideswipe still somewhat within him.   
  
They slumped together, panting quietly, Sideswipe's forehead still pressed to Sunstreaker's, though he'd dimmed his optics. His lips were close enough to touch, and somehow, it was more intimate that they weren't kissing.   
  
Sunstreaker's frame hummed with the last tremors of overload. He felt a sticky, sated mess, but his spark was a whirl of emotion he couldn't quite put into words.   
  
What had they done? That rang through his processor over and over. They were brothers, twins. They should not have done this.  
  
But it felt so right! It felt like finally coming home when they'd been searching for so long. It felt… it felt perfect.   
  
Sunstreaker worked his intake. He stroked his hands down Sideswipe's back, listened to his brother's ventilations, soaked in the familiar scent of him, focused on the pulse of Sideswipe's spark through their chestplates.   
  
“Sides…?”  
  
“Why don't I feel guilty?” Sideswipe murmured, at last. His optics unshuttered and though they were dimmed, they were honest as they looked at Sunstreaker. “You're my brother, and I love you, and no one's ever made me feel the way you just did.”   
  
Sunstreaker's hands twitched on Sideswipe's back. “It's wrong,” he whispered.   
  
“To who?” Sideswipe shifted, his nasal ridge stroking down the length of Sunstreaker's own. “To other people? Why? Who are we hurting?”   
  
“No one.” Another tremor wracked Sunstreaker's frame. “Sides, I want...” He trailed off. Did he dare voice it aloud?  
  
“It's okay.” Sideswipe's lips brushed over his. “I know what you want,” he breathed, his hips slowly rocking against Sunstreaker's. “My Sunny, spark of my spark.”   
  
He shivered, backstrut arching at the minute stimulation, enough to send a low bloom of heat in his frame all over again. He wanted, he craved. He clutched at Sideswipe harder, rubbing their chestplates together, the seam juttering.   
  
“Again,” Sunstreaker said, glossa sweeping over lips.   
  
“Yeah,” Sideswipe breathed, their lips brushing together with a jolt of contact. “Again.” Their mouths sealed together, a kiss more gentle and exploratory than desperate this time.   
  
Sunstreaker moaned. He ignored the unease dripping into his spark. They could worry about repercussions, discussions, all of that later.   
  
Right now, he just wanted this. He wanted Sideswipe.   
  
He would worry about tomorrow when it actually came. Right here, right now, there was only today.   
  


~

**Bonus Scene**   


  
  
“And where have you been?” Trailbreaker asked as Hound stumbled into their shared apartment, covered in dents, paint scrapes, and traces of lubricant. He smelled like an overload, like several overloads as a matter of fact, and had the dopiest of looks on his face.   
  
“Or do I even want to know?” Trailbreaker continued with a little frown. He peered at his best friend, noting scrapes of black, yellow, and red. What a colorful mech Hound had found tonight.   
  
Hound grinned and leaned against the door after it locked behind him. “Oh, you want to know,” he said with this dreamy sigh that was frankly creepy. “They were amazing.”   
  
“They? Please tell me it's not more than two… or three.”   
  
Hound chuckled. “Just two this time.” He absently brushed at the dried splatters on his belly, groin and thighs. “Twins.”   
  
Trailbreaker shook his head and returned his attention to his datapad. “How did you get so lucky?”   
  
“I have no idea. I mean, they were a little weird, but nothing like those mechs from Praxus.” Hound stretched his arms over his head and came further into the main room.   
  
“Weird, how?”   
  
“Nnn. Hard to put into words.” He draped himself against the right side of Trailbreaker's chair. His field read satisfaction. “They didn't touch each other at all, but I got the feeling there was something else there?”   
  
Trailbreaker cycled his optics. “Really?”   
  
“Mmm. Who knows?” Hound inched closer, pressing against Trailbreaker's side, nosing into the curve of Trailbreaker's intake. “I want to snuggle.”   
  
Trailbreaker's free hand lifted to push gently at Hound's head. “Not until you've had a bath,” he said, resisting the urge to wrinkle his nasal ridge.   
  
Hound laughed. “Do I stink?”   
  
“Yes.” Like overloads and lubricant and transfluid. Blech.   
  
“Ouch. Right to the spark.” Hound clutched at his chestplate playfully, but forced himself back to his pedes. “Fine, I'll go rinse first.” He leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to the crest of Trailbreaker's head. “Love you.”   
  
Trailbreaker fondly watched him stagger in the directions of the washracks. “Love you, too, you lunatic,” he said, and shook his head, returning his attention to his datapad.   
  
Hound's soft laughter carried him all the way into the washracks.   
  


****


End file.
